


Returning

by cotton_socks



Series: Throbb Week 2017 [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Break Up, Dismemberment, Getting Back Together, Hospitalization, Implied/Referenced Torture, Imprisonment, Love Confessions, M/M, Meet the Family, Misunderstandings, Past Abuse, Past Domestic Violence, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-27 19:35:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12087900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cotton_socks/pseuds/cotton_socks
Summary: Theon has been making an effort to get on with his life. But not all is well. (Modern AU)





	Returning

**Author's Note:**

> For context, this takes place in late November and December. Theon is in his early/mid thirties, and four years post-Ramsay. He met Robb, who is about 4/5 years younger than him, within the last year. Sansa and Arya are in their early-twenties.
> 
> My first fic for this fandom and pairing.
> 
> I hope you enjoy. :)

 

Robb shows up at his door at 7pm on a Tuesday with a bag of groceries in his arms and a sister at each elbow, and Theon realises abruptly that he’s let this go too far.

 

But he can’t break the guy's heart in front of his siblings - so he lets them in.

 

The girls are in the living room, admiring the fishtank, when Robb sidles up to him in the kitchen and wraps his arms around his waist from behind. The kettle is boiling, bubbling and rattling in its cradle, and Robb speaks close to his ear so only Theon can hear: “This is okay, isn’t it? I know we haven’t spoken about introducing each other to our families, but -”

 

_ But _ they’ve been seeing each other for well over half a year.  _ But _ they spend all their time together.  _ But _ Robb is a family person, and  _ of course _ he was going to want to introduce his pretty-much boyfriend to his family at some point.

 

“- they were asking, and… I didn’t want to lie.” Robb places a kiss behind Theon’s ear. It’s soft. It’s enough to make Theon tremble at the sweetness. “Please don’t be mad at me?”

 

“I’m not mad at you,” Theon says, sliding a hand over Robb’s at his hip. Thinks,  _ I can’t be mad at you, not for this.  _ And,  _ Oh god, I love you.  _ And,  _ How am I going to break up with you? _

 

Theon feels Robb bury his face in Theon’s neck, a smile against his skin. “Do you promise?”

 

“I promise.”

 

The smile widens, “I’ll introduce you to my brothers next time. And my parents. You should come to the house for dinner.”

 

Oh god, he sounds so hopeful. Theon is a terrible person. He should never have let it get this far.

 

“Let’s see how tonight goes first, yeah?” He replies, trying to rein in the momentum.

 

“Yeah,” Robb says, but when he pulls his face away from Theon’s neck, he doesn’t look any less enthusiastic. His face is flushed with secret pleasure, and he keeps smiling at Theon.

 

The thing is, the Theon of a few years ago would have felt flattered, being introduced to his significant other’s family, if somewhat awkward and combative. He was cynical, but he liked people, and liked romantic companionship in particular; he didn’t want to die alone, and was not without hope of love. But now, following his relationship with Ramsay Bolton, he looks at these girls and knows he has made a terrible mistake.

 

He wasn’t meant to get into a  _ relationship _ with Robb. Wasn’t meant to love him, wasn’t meant to be loved back. Wasn’t meant to drag anybody else into the stinking mess that is his life.

 

Robb, like so many other men and women before him, had just meant to prove that it  _ was _ still Theon’s life. That he could still feels things for other people, still have normal human interactions, still make a non-psychopath come.

 

Now he’s made Robb think they have a future together. He’s stolen nearly a year of this sweet man’s life, and made him believe that they can be something.

 

He watches Robb prepare them dinner from the groceries he bought on the way over here from work. He listens to the Stark siblings chatter back and forth and wonders how he’s going to be able to extricate himself from this without wounding Robb.

 

“Tell me about yourself, Theon,” the elder of the two women says, and the younger one chops chives a little more viciously. The threat in it is mostly put-on, Theon knows that rationally, but he has to look away from the knife as he regurgitates the half-truths he’s told Robb about his life.

 

He wonders if they’re deliberately playing good-cop, bad-cop, these sisters of Robb’s (Sansa and Arya; he knows their names intimately, and that should have been a warning sign: he should have ended this months ago.) Arya is suspicious, glaring, watching for a slip-up. Sansa is practically radiant, ecstatic to meet him. Robb drifts in and out of the conversation, busy with the dinner preparations, but brushes soft, loving hands against the small of Theon’s back every time he passes, and smiles, and smiles.

 

They have to rearrange the furniture to eat. In the four years Theon’s lived in this flat - four years since Ramsay was locked away - he’s managed to collect various possessions, but he never thought that he might ever have more than one guest at a time. Even if they pull the computer chair up to the tiny dining table, they’ll be one seat short, so they end up moving the table near the sofa, so they can at least eat in proximity to each other. Arya and Sansa, as the guests, are eventually persuaded to sit at the table, while Robb and Theon end up on the sofa, elbows knocking companionably.

 

The sofa is low, so Theon can’t really see the girls’ faces while they eat. He does briefly entertain the thought of staring lecherously at Sansa’s legs, which are stretched out before him in all their bare glory. But there are surely less cruel ways to break things off with Robb;  _ if I can’t do it without breaking his heart, I can at least allow him to keep his dignity in front of his family,  _ Theon thinks, downcast.

 

“What are your plans for Christmas?” Sansa asks, and Theon catches sight of Robb’s shy glance from his left.

 

_ Shit, how am I going to play this? _ “I don’t tend to celebrate. Atheist, you know?”

 

“But you do something nice with the time off work?” Sansa asks.

 

The thing is, before Ramsay, he always had a service job and usually ended up working throughout the Christmas period. Since Ramsay, he’s been working a series of nine-to-fives and has spent his Christmases alone. He tries to think of what he would have done, back  _ before _ , if he’d had the chance.

 

“Just tend to go and visit friends, you know. It’s a good time to see people.”

 

“Oh? Where are you planning to go this year?” Sansa asks.

 

“I haven’t got around to arranging anything yet,” Theon says casually, knowing Robb will probably notice if he lies.

 

Sansa sends Robb a sly smirk, but thankfully,  _ thankfully _ , nobody asks yet.  _ I’ll have to break up with him as soon as possible, _ Theon thinks. He is surprised by how mournful that makes him feel. Robb really crept up on him. Or maybe Theon just willfully ignored how deep he was getting. He could kick himself, for that mistake: Robb will suffer for it too.

 

“What did you say you did, again?” Arya asks, like it’s a challenge.

 

“I work in admin. Local government.” He says, knowing it makes him seem boring. He doesn’t like admin as much as he’d enjoyed working in retail and hospitality, and he’s not as good at it, but fewer people have to see him, see his scars and his shaking hands, and in the early years that had been a gift beyond measure. Now, he’s got the car-crash story down pat, and it’s rare that he gets the shakes - he thinks Robb has only had to witness it once, when they had chosen seats in the pub a little too close to the dart board. Robb hadn’t asked any awkward questions, just taken Theon home, wrapped him up warm and held him until he stopped trembling.

 

Arya stares at him for a few seconds, looking thoroughly unimpressed, but then mutters under her breath, “At least you’re not another bloody nurse.”

 

Theon can’t help but slant a grin in Robb’s direction; he’s heard all about Nurse Perfect and Nurse If-Possible-Even-More-Perfect. He wonders, vaguely, if either of them are still single, and then feels a bit sick: he knows Robb should be with someone who deserves him, but it’s still painful to think of him with someone else. _I’ll_ _have_ _to_ _get_ _used to the_ _idea_ , he thinks, his smile tightening.

 

“Theon’s an artist, as well,” Robb says, and Theon feels himself flush hot as Sansa gushes and Robb touches his shoulder, proud.

 

Theon hopes they don’t ask too many questions about his art: it’s difficult to talk about without letting on that he does it for therapeutic reasons. He thinks Robb may have figured it out, but if he’s going to lose Robb, he’d rather it be before he finds out how fucked up Theon _ truly _ is.

 

There’s a buzz, suddenly, from the flat’s ancient intercom system. Theon is relieved at the distraction.

 

“Are you expecting someone?” Robb asks, sounding apologetic.

 

“Nah,” he says. He rarely gets visitors, except for Robb and Asha, who both have fobs to get past the main entrance. Anyway, Asha is supposed to be travelling in Greece at the moment, so he’s pretty sure it’s not her buzzing to get let in. It’s probably someone for old Mrs Blackburn next door: she always has visitors, but she babysits her grandchildren on Tuesdays, and there’ll be no response from her apartment.

 

Theon rises and begins to pick his way around the oddly placed furniture, towards the intercom panel by the door. It’s a really crappy system, suited to the crappy block of flats. Somehow, it’s always perpetually stuck on loudspeaker, so the person trying to get buzzed in doesn’t even need to wait for the resident to lift the phone: they can just press the button and talk. It’s ridiculous, the amount of times he has had to stumble out of bed to threaten drunken teenagers that he will call the police on them.  _ Perhaps I should move.  _ He’s been saving money, could probably afford somewhere better -

 

“Hello?”

 

Theon freezes in his tracks

 

“Does this thing work?”

 

_ How - how, he’s not supposed to be out yet, is meant to have another two years at least even for good behaviour he’s not meant to be out yet, how is he out how is he here how did he find me why didn’t they tell me, he’s not supposed to be out yet they said they’d tell me, they said they’d let me know I thought I’d have more time how is he here _

 

“Theon?” That’s Robb on the couch,  _ Robb beautiful Robb _ who he loves, loves so much -

 

“Theon?” That’s the intercom  _ him Ramsay here just outside the building, what am I going to do why is Robb here what have I done, his sisters he trusted me what am I going to do - _

 

“You need to get out.”

 

“Theon?” Robb has such a look of worry on his face.  _ That’s wrong, do you know what I’ve  _ **_done_ ** _ you need to get  _ **_out_ ** _. _

 

“You need to leave.” He grabs up Sansa and Arya’s dishes from the table and rushes them into the kitchen.

 

He can still hear the intercom when it crackles again: “Theon? Are you there?”

 

He takes a breath, forces his hands steady. He can break down after he gets Robb and his sisters  _ out.  _ He will need to - he balks - he will need to let Ramsay  _ in _ to get them out…  _ He will get in anyway, he will find a way to get in, come hell or high water. He was always coming back. _

 

He tries to keep a calm and confident mask as he strides back into the living room to grab up his and Robb’s plates. His guests are all on their feet. They look like they’re not sure what’s going on, or what they should do.

 

“I’ll be seeing you, then,” Theon says, and his voice sounds brusque.

 

Arya is suddenly furious. “What, don’t want us to help you cover up that we were here, you sack of shit?” Quick as a snake, she knocks the plates from his hand. They smash as they tumble to the ground at Theon’s feet.

 

Theon looks from the debris to Robb and sees a realisation spreading across his face. Not the right realisation,  _ I would never, not with him, not to you, I love you Iloveyou _ , but it doesn’t matter now if Robb’s heart gets broken.

 

Arya’s right, Theon realises, there’s no hope of covering up the fact that people were here. There’s evidence all over the flat. But he can hopefully destroy any clue of who they are, how to track them down. He just needs to make sure they get out safely first, and that means  _ quickly. _

 

Ramsay’s voice is soft and imploring over the intercom. “Theon? Babe?” Like the beginning of so many nightmares...

 

But it’s a blessing: Sansa spurs into action, taking her brother firmly by the arm and striding towards the door to the flat. “Come on Robb, we’re leaving.”

 

Robb lets himself be led away, but at the door, he grasps the frame and turns back to face Theon. His face is filled with quiet devastation.  _ I’m sorry, I’m sorry, _

 

The intercom is right by Robb’s shoulder, and when Ramsay’s voice says, “Babe, are you there?”, Theon is momentarily terrified that Robb will press the button to speak to Ramsay -

 

But instead, Robb’s expression fills with anger. “You could have told me,” he says, accusatory. “If you had a boyfriend, you  _ should _ have told me.”

 

Then he spins on his heel and storms out. Sansa, looking taller in her outrage, follows him in silence. Arya pauses for a second. She spits a vicious, “ _ Wanker _ ,” at his face, but then she goes too.

 

Theon waits in his doorway, watching them stalk down the corridor. His heart in beating fast. He puts his finger on the intercom, over the button to open the building door. The Starks head to the lift -  _ good, Ramsay is too impatient, he’ll take the stairs _ \- and as soon as the lift arrives, he presses the button.

 

He hears Ramsay’s gasp from behind him, the eager swing of the door, and meets Robb’s eyes in the lift,  _ angry, heartbroken, loving, _

 

The lift slides closed, and Theon turns back into his flat. He runs to find a hammer.

  
  
  


 

It’s two weeks before he wakes up, and another two before he’s let out of hospital. After that, it takes him a few days to get his account reinstated on a new phone. The old one is smashed into a thousand pieces and probably causing hell in his building’s sewage system, along with all the important parts of his laptop.

 

On the bus home from the phone shop, he checks his notifications. He has three missed calls and a voicemail from Asha - the hospital didn’t know how to contact her, and neither did he, without his phone - two calls from unknown numbers, two texts from his phone company, one from his bank, and twenty-five texts and five missed calls from Robb.

 

_ Twenty-five texts and five missed calls. Oh Robb, I’m sorry I hurt you. _

 

He wonders whether he should look at them. Probably not - he  _ aches _ for Robb, yearns for him in a way he didn’t know it was possible to feel for other people. But the texts and calls are presumably from the first few days, from the first flush of anger and hurt. Robb is surely well clear now, well clear of Theon and everything that comes with him…

 

He goes home, makes a cup of tea and stares at his phone. He forces Robb out of his head, and thinks of Asha instead. He’s not sure if he should bother her, now that’s it’s all over. If all is going as planned, she’ll still be travelling - she’s due to be in Thailand for Christmas - and he doesn’t want her to worry and come back, just for him. But she might worry if she doesn’t hear from him, especially if she finds out, somehow, that Ramsay had escaped from prison.

 

He phones her, and is both relieved and disappointed when she doesn’t answer. He leaves her a voicemail, saying he’s okay, he’s sorry he hasn’t called her back, he’s been busy, he hopes she’s enjoying herself and that they can talk soon.

 

When he hangs up, he feels, abruptly, intensely lonely.

 

He caves, and opens Robb’s texts.

 

**Robb - Tues 21 Nov, 22:08**

_ Fuck you _

 

_ Well, that was to be expected,  _ Theon thinks, though now that the danger has passed, it hurts to think of Robb so angry with him.

 

He grits his teeth and scrolls down a bit.

 

**Robb - Wed 22 Nov, 00:14**

_ I should have stayed to tell him all about you. _

 

**Robb - Wed 22 Nov, 00:15**

_ I would have done if my sisters weren’t with me. _

 

He would have, Theon realises, and is suddenly grateful that Sansa and Arya were there that evening. Robb would have tried to warn Ramsay, who he would have seen as a victim of Theon’s cheating ways… and that wouldn’t have ended well for anyone, least of all for Robb.

 

**[Missed call from this person, 00:18]**

 

**Robb - Wed 22 Nov, 00:21**

_ You’re a fucking dick _

 

**[Missed call from this person, 02:10]**

 

Theon’s heart aches as he continues to scroll down.

 

**Robb - Wed 22 Nov, 13:03**

_ Fuck you _

 

**Robb - Wed 22 Nov, 13:04**

_ FUCK you _

 

**Robb - Wed 22 Nov, 13:46**

_ Fuck you _

 

Robb takes his lunch break at 1 o'clock in the afternoon, when he’s able. So does Theon, and they often meet to take a stroll along the river. An image comes to Theon then like a vision: of Robb with his hands in his pockets and his head down, walking quickly as though to outrun his feelings, but blinking back tears.

 

_ It will pass, it will pass,  _ Theon calls out to that newly-hurt Robb, while knowing that the scene had happened a month ago, if it had happened at all.

 

**Robb - Thur 23 Nov, 23:47**

_ I don’t get epeolel like you, what the fuck did you get from that?? Stringig both of us along, you’re a fuckigv dick. _

 

**Robb - Thur 23 Nov, 23:48**

_ *fucking _

 

**Robb - Fri 24 Nov, 01:22**

_ I shpuld have warned him _

 

At those few, Theon feels ridiculously guilty. It’s not like Robb to drink on a work night, and especially not to the point of being unable to spell.

 

**Robb - Sun 26 Nov, 20:38**

_ I’m going to drop your key fob off tomorrow. I’ll leave it in your letter box. I’ll probably do it at lunchtime, so don’t be around if you don’t want to see me. _

 

**Robb - Mon 27 Nov, 13:20**

_ Done. Don’t worry, I didn’t speak to anyone. Goodbye, Theon. _

 

And that should have been it. A week of anger and pain, and then a mature break and a chance to get over it.

 

But there are still more texts. Theon scrolls down, apprehensive.

 

**Robb - Sat 02 Dec, 14:15**

_ The thing is, it doesn’t make sense. I’ve been around your flat at all times of the day and night for the last however many months, and that was the first time I was there when he called by? If anything, you were cheating on ME. _

 

**Robb - Sat 02 Dec, 14:29**

_ I had a fucking key fob and he didn’t. _

 

**[Missed call from this person, 14:36]**

 

**Robb - Sat 02 Dec, 14:38**

_ Fuck both of you. _

 

Well, that was a reasonable enough conclusion to jump to, Theon supposes. Robb is right, if Theon had been seeing someone else the whole time, he wouldn’t have been able to cover it up for so long. He hadn’t seen anyone else though, not even in the first couple of months, when all they were was lunchtime coffee-dates and the occasional pint down the pub. Now, Theon feels guilty just from the  _ thought  _ of cheating on Robb - lovely, beautiful Robb, Robb whose heart he broke - but he also thinks that if Robb thinks Ramsay was complicit in it, that’s all for the better. Knowing that Robb had thought of Ramsay as the true victim had made him nauseous.

 

He reads on:

 

**Robb - Mon 04 Dec, 18:50**

_ I wanted to apologise about the things I said, esp on saturday. I know we never spoke about being exclusive, and I probably read too much into things. I just really liked you, and I guess I hoped you felt the same way. _

 

**Robb - Mon 04 Dec, 18:55**

_ I know that you were within your rights to see other people. I just wish you’d told me. I’m sure it must have been obvious how I felt. _

 

**Robb - Mon 04 Dec, 19:37**

_ Sorry, that sounded accusatory again, didn’t it? _

 

Theon sighed. Robb was too rational for his own good. He should have just hung onto his hate, nurtured it like a flame, and let it drive him to get over Theon. That was the normal thing to do after a bad breakup, wasn’t it?

 

But instead, Robb had begun to excuse Theon’s actions, and see fault in his own. And the thing was, he may not have cheated, but Theon  _ was _ in the wrong. He had known that Ramsay would be getting out of prison sooner or later, and he had never meant to have a long-term relationship, not with anyone. It was just meant to be fun and seduction and sex, and instead Theon had let it go too far, let himself fall for Robb, let Robb fall for him. He should have ended it, months and months ago. He should have ended it when Robb had just  _ stayed _ for breakfast, the first time they’d slept together, without ever asking. He should have ended it when those mornings had turned into travelling into work together, or at the weekends, into whole days of food and films and sex. He should have ended it when they started keeping toothbrushes and spare clothes at each other’s houses. He should have ended it when dates turned into walks in the countryside and ordering tickets months in advance for bands they wanted to see together. He should have ended it when Robb had bought him some expensive art supplies for his birthday. Or when he had whisked Robb away for an adventure weekend in Wales on _ his _ birthday.

 

It should not have taken  _ meeting the family  _ to realise just how deep he’d let them both get.

 

There are still more texts. Theon steels himself, and scrolls down.

 

**Robb - Wed 06 Dec, 21:08**

_ Theon, can we talk? _

 

**[Missed call from this person, 21:13]**

 

**[Missed call from this person, 21:19]**

 

**Robb - Fri 08 Dec, 19:10**

_ I really want to speak to you - I was going to come over after work, but I didn’t know if you’d want to see me, or if your boyfriend would be there? Is he really your boyfriend? _

 

**Robb - Fri 08 Dec, 19:14**

_ Sorry, that sounds really invasive, I just don’t know if you’re exclusive with him? I’ve been thinking, maybe I was a bit hasty before, and maybe I could be content with a more casual thing, if that’s something you want? _

 

**Robb - Fri 08 Dec, 19:17**

_...and if anyone else you’re with is on the same page... I don’t think I could do it if they didn’t know. _

 

**Robb - Fri 08 Dec, 19:19**

_ But I know I’ve probably come across as really crazy these last few weeks. If you’d rather be rid of me, that’s fine - just let me know. _

 

**Robb - Sun 10 Dec, 22:34**

_ Are we really over? _

 

**[Missed called from this person, 22:57]**

 

**Robb - Tue 12 Dec, 13:32**

_ I’m sorry _

 

Theon feels his throat close up.  _ Are we really over?  _ Robb had wanted to get back with Theon, even after the way things had turned out. He had  _ apologised _ .

 

Theon feels almost as though he should text back, explain:  _ no, you had it right the first time: I’m a dick. You should feel angry and betrayed. You’re better off without me. _ But it’s been just over a week since that last text, and Robb must surely be moving on by now. It would be cruel to reopen the conversation again now, wouldn’t it?

 

But what if he’s  _ not _ moving on? What if he thinks he’s done something wrong, so wrong that Theon won’t even entertain the possibility of a casual relationship with him, won’t even give him the courtesy of saying no, won’t respond, not even to tell him to go away. Surely texting him just once won’t do too much harm?

 

He puts his phone aside and resolves to come to a decision at some time when his heart’s not thumping fast in his chest.

 

_ Are we really over? _ He keeps hearing,  _ Are we really over? _

 

He still hasn’t made up his mind whether or not he should contact Robb the next morning. The choice is taken out of his hands when he’s searching through his cupboards for his winter clothes, and finds a carrier bag from an outdoor shop. It contains a pair of climbing shoes, some belay clips and a book on mountaineering. He remembers being with Robb when he bought them: Robb chattering away about his brother Bran and how he terrified their mother. Robb doesn’t mind his brother’s hobbies himself, but Bran is a poor university student, and doesn’t buy new equipment often enough for Robb’s peace of mind, so he had bought him these as a Christmas present, way back in October. Theon had heard enough about how curious Robb’s younger siblings were, how they were always going through his things and asking questions (“Why do you have two toothbrushes?”, “whose shirt is that drying with your clothes?”, “Who bought you that fancy shampoo?”), it had felt like second nature to offer to keep it at his flat until closer to Christmas

 

Well, it’s certainly closer now. He’ll be surprised if Robb hasn’t bought Bran another present already, but all the same, he knows he should get in touch.

 

After much agonising and many cups of tea, he eventually sends Robb a text:

 

**Theon - Fri 22 Dec, 11:52**

_ Hi. Sorry for not responding before - this is going to sound like an excuse, but my phone was broken. I’ve realised I still have Bran’s present at my flat, if you want to come and pick it up? Or I can bring it to you. We can have that talk, if you still want? _

 

He feels happy for the first few minutes after he sends it, but then he reads it again and begins to worry. Robb had wanted to meet him to discuss having ‘a more casual thing’ - will he think that’s what Theon wants to talk about? To be honest, that’s the one thing Theon  _ doesn’t _ want to talk about. But if he can absolve Robb of any guilt he’s feeling over the end of the relationship, that would be a good thing.

 

Robb texts back during his lunchbreak.

 

**Robb - Fri 22 Dec, 13:27**

_ I’d rather meet you somewhere neutral, if possible. Would you be able to bring it down to the arb tomorrow? _

 

The arboretum is roughly halfway between their houses, a beautiful garden with trees and green spaces, and a river running through it. It had looked wonderful in the autumn, all reds, oranges, yellows, browns and golds, and they had walked through it as often as they could, often hand in hand, drinking coffee from their favourite cafe. Theon’s not entirely sure it counts as a neutral place, as he blinks back sudden tears, but if that’s where Robb is comfortable meeting him, that’s where he’ll meet him.

 

**Theon - Fri 22 Dec, 13:29**

_ Sure, what time? _

 

**Robb - Fri 22 Dec, 13:38**

_ Does 8am work? Sorry, I know it’s early… got things to do. _

 

It is early. Theon doesn’t usually get up that early on a weekend, as Robb well knows, but as he’s been given until early January off work following his hospitalisation, he figures he can sleep some other time. That, and now that the prospect of seeing Robb is being dangled in front of him, he thinks he’d doing anything to meet him.

 

**Theon - Fri 22 Dec, 13:40**

_ That works. See you then. _

  
  
  


 

The park is cold, and Robb looks cosy, all wrapped up in a winter coat, with gloved hands wrapped around a reusable coffee cup and a scarf tight at his throat. His head is uncovered though, and his hair is a splash of vivid colour in the frosty scene. He’s watching ducks on the water.

 

_ Are we really over? _

 

Theon stands and stares for a bit. Then he squares his shoulders and approaches.

 

“I got you a coffee,” he says, by way of greeting, “but I see you’ve already got one.”

 

Robb doesn’t respond immediately, still staring out at the ducks. Theon can’t really blame him. From Robb’s point of view, Theon took him for a ride for ten months, then broke his heart and ignored him for weeks on end before finally agreeing to talk. Theon puts the two coffees down on the bench next to a shoebox he assumes must contain the sundry items he’d left at Robb’s house, and sits towards the other end of the bench, the right-hand side, unhooking the carrier bag with Bran’s present in it from his wrist.

 

“Theon, what  _ happened _ ?”

 

He looks up and sees Robb staring at him. He is suddenly very aware of the green and yellow bruises all down one side of his face. “Don’t worry about it, Robb,” he says.

 

“Did  _ he _ do that to you?” Robb looks horrified. “Is that because of  _ me _ ?”

 

It occurs to Theon then that he could have had a courier deliver Bran’s present to Robb, and he wouldn’t have had to have this conversation. But he probably would never have seen Robb again, either. “It’s not because of you, Robb,” Theon says.

 

“But it was…” Robb blanches. He casts a subtle glance around the park. “Are you safe?” He asks in low tones, “Do you need help?”

 

Theon sighs, but smiles with it. Robb would be worried for anyone he thought might be a victim of domestic violence, Theon is sure, but it’s nice that he cares. “I’m fine.”

 

Robb shuffles closer on the bench, his thigh bumping against the forgotten shoebox. His body is turned towards Theon, and he reaches across as though to touch him - but his hand lands on the backrest of the bench, in the space between them. He looks at a loss. “Have you… spoken to the police?” His hand makes another move towards Theon’s cheek, and settles back down on the back of the bench. “He should be put away, for that.”

 

“He was,” Theon finds himself saying, “You don’t need to worry. He’ll be away for a long time, now.” He can’t help the victorious feeling that surges through him in that moment.

 

Robb is watching him smile with an expression of dismay. “Now?” He repeats, and Theon realises his mistake.

 

Theon hadn’t come here meaning to explain, but finds himself talking. “He - uh. Was in prison before. He still had a few more years on his sentence, but apparently he, he manipulated some of the prison staff and managed to escape… He’s been put in a higher security facility now, and given a much longer sentence.” Theon can feel that he’s still smiling. He’s not had a chance to tell anyone this, yet, not really. A policeman had come to him after he’d woken from his coma, to explain what had happened, and he’s had several conversations with his lawyer over the last few weeks, but being able to talk to a real person, to talk to Robb… He’s suddenly able to identify the odd feeling that has dogged him since he woke up in hospital: relief. The charges have all piled on top of each other, extending the original sentence several times over; Ramsay has forfeited his right to get out early for good behaviour; people  _ realise _ now, how dangerous he is, and won’t be taking any chances; he’ll be locked away for a long, long fucking time. For the first time in years, Theon can see a future that doesn’t come back around to Ramsay.

 

Robb is staring at him. “When he was put away the first time… it was for hurting you?”

 

“Among other things, yes.”  _ He did a lot more than just hurt me. _

 

Robb looks stricken with guilt. “And I  _ left _ you with him.”

 

Theon feels such a surge of tenderness towards this man. This man who would have stayed and tried to fight Ramsay off with his bare hands, if he’d known the truth. And that’s why Theon hadn’t let him. He reaches over to take Robb’s left hand, the one which isn’t resting on the back of the bench near Theon’s shoulder. “I  _ made _ you leave. You could say I tricked you into leaving.”

 

“ _ Why? _ ”

 

“What could you have done, Robb? And would your sisters have left, if you didn’t?”

 

“I - I could have at least called the police after I’d got them out. Or we could have all stayed in the flat, and waited for the police to arrive.” He looks kind of desperate, unshed tears shining in his eyes.

 

“I didn’t realise he hadn’t been officially released; I didn’t even think to call the police. And he would have made his way in, sooner or later,” Theon explains. Ramsay could have just caught the door when the next resident made their way in or out of the building.

 

Robb’s right hand leaves the bench, and finally reaches up to touch Theon’s face. He ghosts his gloved fingers gently over the bruises. “How long - how long did he hurt you for, before he got locked away again?”

 

“Not long. Less than an hour.”  _ Less than an hour. _ He’s spent four years anticipating Ramsay’s release from prison, dreading how it would be to fall back into Ramsay, into pain and horror and losing himself again, into weeks or months or years of  _ Reek _ , and then death. And instead: less than an hour. The evidence of other people in the flat, and especially of another man, a lover, had been a blessing: Ramsay had flown immediately into a rage; he hadn’t had time to draw Theon in, to coax Reek out. And, then, serendipitously, it had turned out that Mrs Blackburn was home after all; her grandchildren were on holiday, so she was having a week off from babysitting. As soon as the shouting and banging began, before even the screams, she had called the police.

 

Robb nods, looking like he’s struggling to process everything. “Did he break your phone as well, so you couldn’t call for help?”

 

“No, that was me,” Theon admits, wishing Robb wasn’t wearing gloves, so he could feel Robb’s skin on his own, rather than wool. “It had addresses in it - yours, and my sister’s, and my counsellor’s. I didn’t want to take any chances.”  _ He would have killed you, given half an opportunity. Or worse.  _ “I’ve been in the hospital, that’s why I haven’t called.”

 

The tears finally slip down Robb’s cheeks, “God, I’ve spent the last month trying to hate you, and all the time…”

 

“It’s okay,” Theon says. He’s not very good at reassuring people, hasn’t had much practice, but he wants to make Robb feel better. He squeezes Robb’s hand tighter with his right hand, and with his left, pulls the cuff of his coat down over his gloved fingers to wipe the tears from Robb’s face with the worn material. He finds himself smirking, and reprimands himself for his complacency. Still, he repeats, “ _ Trying _ to hate me?”

 

Robb averts his eyes. His right hand comes to rest gently in Theon’s hair. “I couldn’t sustain it. I was so angry, I felt so betrayed… and yet all I wanted to do was be with you.” His gaze drifts out to the ducks on the water. He speaks quietly, “I love you so much.”

 

Theon feels a spark of exhilaration shoot through him.  _ I shouldn’t, I shouldn’t _ \- but for the first time in years, he has hope of a future. He licks his lips nervously, and tells the truth: “I love you, too.”

 

Robb’s eyes flick up to his, and they are blue, so blue. “Do you?” He asks, and then, “Will you be my boyfriend?”

 

Theon smiles, “Yeah,” he says. “I’d like that.”

 

Robb looks ecstatic, and tries to shift closer, but his leg knocks against something. They both look down and laugh. Bran’s present, the shoebox of Theon’s stuff and the coffee cups still sit in between them. Robb lets go of Theon, and lifts the box and bag, moving them hastily to the end of the bench as he shuffles into the space in the middle. Theon goes to grab the coffees -

 

And Robb makes an alarmed noise. Theon glances up to see him staring at Theon’s hands, distressed.

 

“Ah. Right. Yes.” Theon says. He puts the coffees down behind him, then holds out his left hand, the stiff leather of his glove flopping oddly where his ring finger should be. Ramsay really hadn’t liked the idea of him being with anyone else. He takes the glove off so Robb can see.

 

Robb makes another wordless sound of anguish, and takes Theon’s hands between both of his own. Theon notices that he’s shaking. “I have a few more scars now,” he warns.

 

“I’ve never minded about the scars,” Robb says, unable to stop staring at Theon’s hand, but being very careful not to jostle it, or touch the site of trauma. “How could someone  _ do _ this to a person?”

 

“I was lucky to get away with just that,” Theon admits, thinking with horror about the things Ramsay had been promising to do, just before the police had broken the door down. He takes a deep breath. “I - I have a history, Robb. I have a ton of baggage, and I’m not just saying that. And it’s not - I mean, most of it’s him, but there’s also a load of family stuff… My brothers, my uncle… My mum and dad…”

 

Robb is shaking his head, “I don’t -” He drops a gentle kiss onto the back of Theon’s hand. His lips are warm and dry. “I mean, I  _ do _ care. But it doesn’t change how I feel. I want to be with you. We can… You can talk to me about any of it, when you’re ready, I’ll try not to pressure you. And - if something, if something comes up… we’ll work through it together, yeah?”

 

Theon feels himself smiling, chest aching. “Yeah.”

 

“And I promise I won’t jump to conclusions again. I shouldn’t have assumed the worst of you.”

 

“Robb, I told you, I wanted you to assume whatever it took to make you leave.”

 

“That doesn’t make it okay.” Robb looks so earnest.

 

“Shut up,” Theon grins, and kisses his serious mouth.

 

They kiss, sweet and soft and unhurried, there in the frost, near the water.  They kiss for such a long time that Robb begins to try to put Theon’s glove back on over his chilly hand, and Theon has to break away, laughing.

 

“You’re an idiot, do you know that?” He asks, as Robb gently manoeuvres Theon’s remaining fingers into the glove, and pulls it on.

 

“Shut up,” Robb replies with own grin, and leans in for another kiss, Theon’s hand warm and safe between his own.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I actually wrote most of this back in June. As its vaguely Christmas-related, I was going to wait until later in the year to post it, but kept incessantly tweaking it - not necessarily for the better - so decided to post it for Throbb Week 2017 day 3 (modern AU) instead.
> 
> The idea came from reading a lot of fics where a past-Thramsay relationship formed the backdrop for Theon and Robb meeting and getting together. But as Ramsay's abuse is usually toned down to something closer to 'normal abusive relationship' levels (understandably!), I sometimes struggle to see Ramsay being entirely out-of-the-picture. Modern punishments for and preventions of domestic violence and abuse have never struck me as being effective enough, and I imagine there are many victims who have to live with the fact that their abuser is out there and may come back into their life at some point, or may even still be in it. I've therefore always struggled to think of a post-Ramsay Theon (particularly one who has never had Robb in his support network) as having enough closure and emotional stability in order to build a truly successful relationship with someone new.
> 
> In this fic, I wanted to explore how Theon might feel about having a relationship with Robb in the context of the knowledge that Ramsay was going to get out of prison and come back for him - but I also wanted to take the opportunity to give Theon the happy ending he deserves. Hopefully I've managed to do it in a way which isn't disrespectful to the suffering of real abuse victims. I should perhaps say that although Theon ends this fic optimistic about his future and glad that the worst of his fears for Ramsay's return didn't happen, I'm not under any illusions that Theon's time with Ramsay and the loss of his finger won't cause him psychological problems. I just hope that it's vaguely realistic to hope that the long-term effects of what happens to Theon in this fic are less than if he had to live the rest of his life with the fear of Ramsay coming back into his life.
> 
> Please do let me know what you think about the above and about the fic in general. Any comments will be very gratefully received. Other things I would particularly appreciate feedback include characterisation, style, pacing and consistency.
> 
> Thank you for reading. :)


End file.
